Ashari
by chicadoodle
Summary: Ashari : a race of elfkind who secreted themselves away from the rest of humanity centuries ago, existing now in legends only to the rest of humanity. He was Ashari, but only half. Raised in a family that was not his own, the Ashari have returned to claim what is theirs . . . And Ron Weasley's life will never be the same.
1. For what I shall give

Eladrin's first memory was of his younger cousin.

Ashari relationships were complicated things, much like their politics. And not every child was welcomed with open arms; not every life was celebrated.

It was different in the Wizarding World; even Eladrin had known that at a young age. The wizarding world world was a harsh place, one war after another taking many lives. Children were protected, by both the Light and the Dark.

But the Ashari had never created such definitive lines; had never broken down magic nor their society into such clear cut definitions. Light, dark, good and evil; these were words which had no place among their people. They lived instead in shades of gray, cut off from humanity and their endless squabbles.

But sometimes their people strayed; sometimes they were lost to the passions of humanity, drawn into the beauty of humankind. For it could not be denied that there was beauty there, even among the harsh coldness of their self-righteousness and hatred for anything that was new, anything that was different. Children of these unions were looked upon as oddities as a whole, with individual opinions differing far and wide ... Their fates decided on a case by case basis.

Eladrin did not remember his cousin's mother. She had fled their realm shortly after her child had been born, and few were willing to speak of her as he grew older. But he remembered his cousin, and how beautiful he had been. Eladrin remembered his beauty most of all.

The Ashari were a private people, having crafted with magic a realm of their own long ago. Their contact with the world they had left behind was sparrodic, and it seemed that the longer they were gone the more varied humanity became at finding ways to kill one another, be they magical or technological. Few visitors were allowed within their sanctum, and fewer still were allowed to leave. Those who did, had powerful enchantments placed. Upon them, lest they speak to others of theAshari and their society.

But nobody would speak of his cousin's mother, nor where she had gone. Would she bring others here? Either nobody knew, or they were not concerned. Either way, Eladrin had learned long ago not to ask.

But his cousin - he knew exactly where he had gone. Into the world of wizards, secreted away with an already bursting family who had just lost their young son. And now he was coming home - and they had sent Eladrin to retrieve him.


	2. Shall be taken away

Molly Weasley was livid.

Over ten years ago she had lost her youngest son, Ronald. There had been complications at birth, and she had never even had the chance to hold her young son; she had given birth to a stillborn child. In the hours that followed she had been inconsolable, unwilling to entertain been her husband in her grief.

That was when the Ashari had come. Mari had been her name, and she had made Molly an offer; a child to replace the one she had lost. A child they could not keep, a child that needed a home and a loving family. These things she could provide.

And she had agreed.

The child had been nearly indistinguishable from her own family, and Arthur had taken the baby in without a second thought. The children had never questioned it, and if little Ron perhaps looked too old for a newborn ... Well, Bill and Charlie had little enough experience with babies as it was, how were they to tell the difference? Fred and George had certainly been too young to even remember the birth of their younger brother, and Percy had remained uninterested in the addition to the family, already wrapped up in his picture books – a love of reading that would follow him throughout his life.

So it had been their secret. Select nurses obliviated, and Arthur's job at the ministry had allowed him to falsify records with an alarming ease.

And that had been that. Ron was hers, whether she had given birth to hi or not. She had never expected to see the Ashari again, had fought long and hard to forget that she had ever come into contact with these secretive people in the first place. She had never WANTED to see the again.

But here he was, this enigmatic young man with his narrow features and pale skin, pure white hair falling softly around his face. He was handsome, there was no denying that fact. But he was also cold as ice, staring at her with those bright blue eyes that reminded her so much of her where Ron was warmth and light, this man was cold and without feeling, without remorse of empathy.

"You can't do this." Molly's voice was desperate as she spoke, a desperation only a mother can understand. A mother who could do nothing to protect her youngest son from what she knew was coming.

The man merely raised one pale eyebrow, a sort of dark humor twisting his lips into a semblance of a smile. "He is not yours to keep, Molly." He spoke her name as though he had any right of familiarity, and it grated on her nerves - as though he had any right to be here _at all_.

"You gave him up!" The man had spoken not a word, but Molly continued anyway. "You didn't want him!"

"The laws of my people are neither your concern, nor your privelage to know. You have done as we asked, but now it is time for him to return home."

So cold, so without emotion, or remorse, or empathy. Would they teach Ron to be just like him? Molly shivered at the coldness int he man's eyes, her mind whirling as she desperately sought some way to convince him, some way to make him understand.

..

Eladrin stared at the woman before him, a small smile twisting his lips as he reached out, seeking the touch of another Ashari. The boy that she had named Ron was only part Ashari, but that was enough. He was here, surrounded by other children, happy. His siblings? Those he thought of as his siblings, at any rate.

Eladrin focused on the woman before him for a moment, considering his next words. In the end, he decided on silence as he caught hold of the essence of the one he believed to be his cousin, giving a sharp _pull_ with his magical core. In a blink, a tall red-headed boy was there, stumbling a little as he stared dazedly around him. "Wha-"

"Ron!" Molly gave a sharp cry, taking a step forward only to be stopped when Eladrin moved between her and Ron, one hand held up in warning even as he turned his attention to the youth.

"You are alright. I brought you here." Eladrin's voice was soft, his earlier coldness gone as he sought to soothe his younger cousin. A gentle hand on the back of a red head, and Ron, who had been about to make a move backward, fell limply into his arms. Eladrin easily lifted the tall, lanky form into his arms, turned toward Molly as he did so. He simply rose one eyebrow, both he and the form of Ron Weasley disappeared from sight, leaving Molly Weasley to collapse to the ground, one hand covering her mouth in a vain attempt to hold back the sobs she knew would come regardless.


	3. Even as you strive

Eladrin settled his younger cousin on the large bed that had been arranged for him, one hand brushing back his shockingly bright red hair from his face. Though he appeared as the perfect blending of Molly and Arthur Weasley at the moment, Eladrin knew that his Ashari traits would soon make themselves known; time in their lands, surrounded by their magics, would see to that.

Magic permeated the air here; many wizards found themselves unable to physically cope with that fact. It was in their blood, in their food, in the very air that they breathed. Where magic existed as something to be called upon by wizards, it was everywhere within the Ashari realm . . . it could not be escaped, and at times could not always be controlled. Over the centuries since they had left humanity behind, that magic had changed their people until the absence of magic could be downright physically harmful to them - unless they adapted to it at a very young age.

Ron - as his human mother had called him - would have to adapt to his new home now. It wouldn't be painful, but it would be trying. Eladrin found the very idea of having to adapt to magic strange, but he knew what his Elders had told him.

Taking a step back from the bed, Eladrin studied his cousin. The bed upon which he had been lain was both wide and long, the coverlet a deep green. One long pillow was pushed up at one end of the bed, Ron's red hair clashed wildly with the deep forest green. There was no posts, no hangings to hide behind - Eladrin had heard that the wizards favored such things, but the Ashari most decidedly did not. Theirs was an open society, with few barriers against the outside world. The room in which Ron had been placed sported long ceiling to floor windows, bare of any curtains that could have afforded even a small amount of privacy. What would Ron think of this, when he woke? Ron, who had grown up in a world of privacy and personal possessions, now thrust into a world where everything he did, everything he said, could and would be shared among the people.

The nuances of his words, his actions, his facial expressions would all be noticed. Was it like that in the world of humans? Eladrin had been in contact with only Molly Weasley during his small time there, but her home had already been so cluttered, so full of secrets. What was the draw of all those material possessions, he had to wonder? He had few items that he would claim as his own - his hunting bow, a few ivory figurines his betrothed had carved for him. He had his room, the same as when he was a child, in the family courtyard. But even that space was open to outsiders.

This room had a door - a large, heavy wooden thing that could be locked. But only from the outside - there were doors, few locks within their realm. They were a society that was open, and to close off others from your home ... it was unheard of. But Ron would be confused; he had been raised in a culture of violence, and they could take no chances.

There had been others like him, down through history. He certainly wasn't the first child that had come of a union between Man and Ashari. They always came home, in the end . . . it was only a matter of time. Some came sooner than others, but never before their 13th birthday. 13 was an important number among their people, and it had it's significance among the humans as well, or so Eladrin had been told.

What would Ron think when he awoke? Eladrin had been warned not to allow his young cousin the time to get his bearings, to say goodbye or to fight against him. Bring him, and bring him quickly. That had been his mission, and he had completed it to the best of his ability. Now that his young cousin had been brought here safely, however, Eladrin could not help but worry how he would react.

Eladrin was Ron's Keeper. All half-breeds had one when they first arrived home; one to help them understand their situation, to acclimate them to life here among their people. It was a frightening time for the children who had been sent away before they could retain any memories of their lives here. Everything would be new to him - his home, his family, even the adolescents close to his own age that he would have grown up with had he been allowed to stay. But before any of that could come, before he could even be introduced to the myriad of aunts, uncles, cousins and even nieces and nephews that made up his family, he had to accept his new life.

And if Molly Weasley was any indication, Eladrin had a feeling that Ron Weasley would not be initially accepting of _anything_.

...

Three days had passed since Ron had disappeared from the back yard during a game of Quidditch with his sister and older brothers, and still neither of his parents were willing to talk about his disappearance.

Molly Weasley had not fixed dinner in three days. She had not cleaned the house, had not even exited the bedroom she shared with her husband. Her children had not seen her since she had collapsed on the ground in the kitchen, crying out her youngest son's name.

Arthur Weasley had not arrived at work the next morning. Indeed, he had taken an indefinite leave of absence, disappearing from both his home and his place of work without more than a cursory explanation of "a family tragedy" for his employer.

The Weasley children had been left to fend for themselves. With Percy gone, this had meant that Fred, George and Ginny Weasley had been left to their own devices for the past three days. There were no large dinners, only quick sandwiches hastily made before they retreated to their separate corners of the house. There had been no explosions from experiments for Fred and George, no loud exclamations or pranks pulled on their sister. The house was eerily silent for the Weasley abode.

When Albus Dumbledore first arrived on the morning of the fourth day, it took him a moment to discover just what seemed out of place - and it was that silence. It took no more work than a simple spell to inform him that the four individuals in the house were perfectly safe, and a quick glance at the clock on the mantle to confirm that every member of the Weasley family was either safe, sleeping, or working - every member, that is, except for Ron Weasley, who was currently set at _unknown_.

Making his way through the house, Albus knocked gently on the bedroom door that his spell had informed him housed Molly Weasley. When he received no response he frowned and tried again. To his dismay, he discovered that not only was Molly Weasley ignoring him, but that the room had been locked, warded, and if his senses were not deceiving him, silenced.

He could have forced himself inside, could have broken down the protections Molly had placed upon the room. But it would have taken time - Molly had always been an expert at warding, and at one point in her life had considered a career as a professional warder. The years had toned her knowledge down a bit, but not enough that it would be an easy task to get through her own personal wards - especially on a house that was keyed to her own magical signature.

Stepping away from the door, Albus turned to find the small form of Ginny Weasley regarding him with a sad look on her petite features. "Are you here about Ron, Professor?"

Albus paused, considering the small girl. He had not, in fact, come because of Ronald Weasley - in fact, he had arrived because both Arthur and Molly Weasley had failed to show up for a scheduled meeting concerning the threat Voldemort once again posed to the Wizarding Community - whether Minister Fudge was willing to admit it or not.

"Why don't we sit a spell?" Albus offered instead of answering, leading the obviously confused - and perhaps even frightened - young woman with a soft touch on her elbow in the direction of the kitchen.

Though Ginny and her brothers had been careful not to leave a mess behind, it was still obvious that Molly had not touched the kitchen in some time - and that worried Albus even more.

"Now, why don't you tell me what happened?"


End file.
